


I'll Be Their Sunshine

by supersleepygoat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood, Depression, Gen, Mentions of self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 18:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17627294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersleepygoat/pseuds/supersleepygoat
Summary: You are on a hunt with the boys when a depressive episode overtakes you. Your behaviour is so uncharacteristic, the boys call for help. But, you already have a well-practiced method of reestablishing the appearance of happiness.





	I'll Be Their Sunshine

You come twirling out of the motel bathroom in a bright pink sundress. You trip over your feet but do a little curtsey to try and cover up your fumble. Both brothers start laughing at you and your failed attempt at looking graceful. 

“I was born to play this part!” you state with pride as you skip over to the bed flop down beside Sam who is buttoning up his sweater vest. 

“I’m glad you’re happy about it, kid. That makes one of us,” Dean says as he turns around to face you. He is wearing khaki shorts and a white short-sleeve button up under a green vest. He straightens his green bowtie and flops his arms down to his side. You bite your lip to stifle the fit of laughter that is threatening to burst through. Dean raises a finger in your direction, “Don’t you dare laugh, Y/N! Or so help me Chuck I will-”

Dean is cut off when you and Sam erupt into a fit of giggles. The fact that he is trying to sound threatening and menacing right now, is only making him look even more adorable. 

“Unbelievable!” Dean bellows as he raises his hands in defeat. “Why do I have to be the one to go undercover as the waiter at this stupid country club, while you two get to play house and pretend to be Mr. and Mrs. Fancy Pants?” Dean asks with a small pout. 

You get off the bed and walk over to Dean. “Hey, if you want to wear my pretty pink dress, I’ll be more than happy to switch rolls with you.” You slap Dean’s butt to amplify his embarrassment. 

“Don’t push me, sweetheart!” Dean warns you. You lean onto your tiptoes and place a small kiss to his cheek. He doesn’t scare you. 

You turn around to face Sam who has finished slipping on his loafers. “You ready to go,  _ hubby _ ?” you ask as you all but run over to the door with excitement. You’re halfway to Baby when you look at the brothers over your shoulder. “I hope they have those mini mac and cheese cups!” you jabber. 

“I don’t think rich people eat mac and cheese,” Dean informs you and your smile instantly falls. “But don’t worry, kid. You’ve got an in with a waiter,” Dean says as he playfully tugs on his bowtie. “I’ll sneak you out some of the good snacks they usually hide in the back.”

You’re smiling wide again and you give Dean a high five. 

Sam rolls his eyes at the two of you. “Guys, we’re going there to look for a cursed object. This thing is killing people and making it look like suicide. We need to get rid of it before anyone else dies. We’re not going there for the  _ snacks _ ,” Sam informs you with an exasperated tone. 

You scoff. “Yeah Dean! We’re not going there for the food! Jeez, you should really learn to focus better! You need to sort out your priorities,” you wink at Dean. Sam rolls his eyes at you again before getting into the car. Dean narrows his eyes at you. He playfully nudges your shoulder before slipping in behind the wheel. 

* * *

 

The boys watch you ham it up with the other country club goers. You even try a fake accent. But, it fails miserably. You abandon it halfway through your first conversation, much to the other person’s confusion. 

It is your job to mingle and gain information from the patrons. Dean is supposed to talk to the staff, while Sam snoops around for any odd-looking objects. 

“Dean!” you half whispered and half shouted to get his attention. 

Dean’s head whips around to your direction, thinking you had found a clue. However, you are holding a mini mac and cheese cup and giving him a sly smile with a thumbs ups. Dean shakes his head at you and tells you to get back to work. But, when you discreetly slip a cup into his hand, Dean can no longer maintain his bossy exterior. He shoves the food into his mouth and you giggle at his enlarged cheeks before slipping away from him. 

The second you turn the corner and are away from Dean’s gaze, you smile fades. You enter the women’s washroom, the one place you know the boys won’t come looking for you. You grip the porcelain sink and take heavy breaths. Against your better judgment, you look at yourself in the mirror. You stare at the emptiness that is looking back at you. The longer you stare, the deeper the shudder in your breath grows and the blurrier your vision gets. You don’t recognize the made-up person looking back at you. 

A stray tear breaks through your shielded rims. You rip your eyes away from the mirror and violently wipe away the unwelcomed tear. “Fucking idiot. You can’t do this now,” you remind yourself. 

You straighten your shoulders and practice your smile in the mirror. To you, it looks so broken and forced. But luckily, no one else has ever seemed to notice.

You exit the washroom to seek out the youngest Winchester. You are walking down the hallway completely lost in your thoughts when you crash into Sam. 

“We have to go, now!” Sam says in a panic. 

“Why? What’s wrong? Did you find the cursed object?” you ask while Sam tugs you down the hallway by your wrist. 

“It’s not a cursed object. It’s a witch! There’s another body… I found it in the wine cellar. This one had a hex bag lodged in his throat. That’s probably why we missed it in the others! I only found this one because he had a string coming out of his mouth.” Sam speaks low as you draw nearer to the rest of the party. “We need to find Dean and get the witch killing bullets from the car! We’re not prepared for this!” 

You pull your wrist from his grasp. “Okay, you go get Dean. I’ll run to the car and grab what we need!”

Sam hesitates to let you go alone. But, he needs to warn his brother and he knows it will be faster if you split up. You kiss his cheek and offer him your practiced smile. You sprint away before he has time to stop you. 

You are digging through Baby’s trunk when you hear someone suck in a breath through their teeth. You peak around Baby and see a well-dressed man leaning on her hood.

“I wouldn’t leave any fingerprints on her paint if I were you… you’ll only piss Dean off more. He already hates witches. No need to make this personal,” you caution the stranger who you assume is your witch. 

The man breathes out a laugh. “You know, this car is a dead give-away. Any monster who knows what’s good for him, knows to blow town the second this beauty roars into the city limits.”

“And yet, here you are,” you say with slight curiosity. 

“Here I am,” the witch drawls out with a wicked smile. 

* * *

 

Sam and Dean come running out to the car after you take too long to return on your own.

As they approach Baby, they see the limp body of a man lying on the ground by her back tires. His collar is torn and there is a pool of blood forming from the bullet wound that is dead center on his forehead. 

Both men panic when they see you. You are sitting up against Baby. Your dress is torn and splattered with blood. Your head is lulled to the side and you are staring off into the distance. The Winchesters assume the worst when they see your limp state. That is, until you blink and squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to hold in a bout of tears.

Dean dives to your side and holds your cheeks in his large palms. You try to offer him your signature smile but it is weaker than usual. This time, the brothers notice. 

Sam scoops you up of the ground and you offer no resistance. You let your head rest against his shoulder as he enters Baby’s front seat and he keeps you in his lap. After a few minutes, Dean gets in behind the wheel. His hands are bloody.

“Witch boy is in the trunk,” Dean informs his brother. He sees you are nearly catatonic in Sam’s arms. “What the hell happened?” he asks with alarm. 

Sam tries shrugging but doesn’t want to disturb you, so he simply shakes his head. 

* * *

 

You enter the motel room and head straight for the washroom. Dean and Sam are not far behind but are watching you closely. When the door clicks shut behind you, Dean turns to face his brother. “Okay, what the hell was that?” Dean doesn’t even bother hiding the panic in his voice. 

“Maybe she – it was probably – I have no idea,” Sam relents as he runs his hand through his hair. 

“She was gone for not even fifteen minutes! How does she find and gank the witch so fast? And what the hell did he do to her to make her so…” Dean trails off.

“Broken?” Sam finishes for his brother. 

“We’ve known her for what, four years? Can you remember any time in those four years where she wasn’t little miss sunshine? I mean her level of pep would give Charlie a run for her money.”

“Maybe she’s just a little shaken up. I mean, we both know she’s not a big fan of taking on monsters hand-to-hand. Maybe she just needs a minute to regain her footing?” Sam tries to formulate an understanding for your odd behaviour. 

“Oh please, I’ve seen that girl do a lot more damage than putting a bullet in one measly witch. She’s always all smiles and yippy skippy afterwards. That bastard did something to her!” 

“Yeah well, it’s too little too late to ask him.”

Dean walks over to where you discarded your purse on the bed. He empties its contents and searches for a hex bag. When he finds nothing out of the ordinary, he walks over to the washroom door. He is about to knock when he hears he faint sounds of your sobs being muffled by the running shower. 

He recoils away from the door. “Call Rowena!” Dean barks at his brother. “That son of a bitch put a whammy on her and we need to reverse it. Now!”

* * *

 

You spend the next two days shifting between pretending to sleep and staring blankly into the wall across from your bed. You are exhausted and your bones are heavy but sleep never comes. Under normal circumstances, you probably would have found it odd that you and the boys had stayed in town two days past finishing the hunt. At some point, you felt you should ask them why you were still in town, but you don’t actually care what the answer is. 

For the past two days, you have heard the boys talking in hushed tones around the room. They have tried, and failed, to engage with you. They offer to take you to your favourite chain restaurant so you can get the sprinkle coated desert you love so much. But, you had no interest.

You give them a polite smile that never reaches your eyes. You reassure them that you are fine, but simply tired. You know they don’t believe you. You want to be better for them and you hate yourself even more so letting them see it. But, no matter what you do, your iron limbs and stinging eyes won’t let you get out of bed. You know it’s only a matter of time before they give up and leave you alone. 

You hear knocking at the motel door and curl into your pillows further. 

“Hello boys,” you hear the cheery greeting from a familiar Scottish accent. 

“Rowena,” is Dean’s curt reply. 

“I hear our little bird has a broken wing,” the witch says with a forced pout. You still make no effort to move. 

“Can you fix her?” Dean asks shortly. Over the past two days his patience has worn thin. He knows Rowena is here to help but he wants you back and doesn’t have time for pleasantries. 

You roll over to face the incessant voice. You lock eyes with the petite witch. Rowena can see into the void of your blank eyes and a small smile plays on her lips. 

“Out!” she orders the men.

“What? No way! We called you here to help her, we’re not leaving you alone with her,” Sam interjects. 

“It’s time for a woman to woman chat. No boys allowed!” Rowena chimes as she shoos the boys out of the room. They are each reluctant to leave but when you give them a slight nod they relent. 

“We’ll be right outside. We so much as hear her hiccup and we’re going to-”

“Yes yes, I know! You two brutes are going to huff and puff and blow this whole fleabag motel down. I get the picture… now out!” she jeers. The door slams shut behind the brothers. “Well then, you care to tell me what I’m doing here, why I travelled all this way? There is not a stitch of magic surrounding you, darling.”

You bury your face into your pillow. “I’m not the one who called you. It’s fine, Rowena. Please just go. Tell them I’m fine and I’ll snap out of it soon. I always do.”

“How long?” her voice is stern now. 

“On and off since college,” you reply not having the energy to deny her accusation. 

She lets out a heavy breath. “They brought me here to fix you, dear. They think you’re under some spell. What I am supposed to tell those two lumbering giants out there? I am supposed to open that door and present you as the peppy little spitfire they know and love. But we both know that even my magic cannot fix this.” 

“I know. Just give me a minute. I can be who they think I am, I just need a minute to put myself back together,” you say as you shift into a seated position. 

“I’m curious. How do they not know? Why live this lie? Those boys are a lot of things,” she scoffs before continuing, “but heartless is not one of them. You have to know they would not judge you. Hell, those do-gooders would probably make it their life’s mission to save their precious Y/N.”

“That’s exactly why they can never know. Sam and Dean deal with enough crap. I will not add to their burden. I’m not worth the trouble. It’s better if they believe that I am not this person. If they knew-” you take a deep breath. “They can never know,” you whisper in defeat. 

“How have you been able to hide this from them for so long?” the witch asks with genuine curiosity. 

You pull yourself out of bed and start digging through your duffle bag for real clothes. “I have my ways,” you offer the witch a sad smile as you take off your pajama top. 

“Oh, you poor dear,” Rowena exclaims as she sees your lower stomach and ribs are littered with dozens of tiny knife wounds. Even though you’re a hunter, Rowena knows those types of cuts are not ones you get from working a case. 

You pull a tank top over your head and cover your strategically placed scars. They remain hidden even when you wear revealing clothing. “Like I said, I have my ways. They never see that part of me. And, they never will. Their job is to save the world. My job is to make sure they have a source light in their life.”

Rowena lets out a small laugh, “Your light is about to burn out, sugar. What will happen the next time when you can’t push it down any further. Next time, you may not be able to blame your behaviour on some spell.”

“It’s not the first time. And, it won’t be the last. When I feel myself getting bad… and the usual methods don’t work, I slip away for a couple weeks and tell them I’m meeting a friend. I holed up in the nearest motel and just ride it out. I let the episode run its course and I stay gone and don’t come back to them until I know I can be who they need me to be. This hunt ran longer than I expected, there was nowhere for me to go.”

“So, the witch you took down, he did nothing to you?”

“No magic. He just talked to me. He told me all the things I already knew about myself. I let him get in my head. It’s been a long time since someone has been able to see past my  _ sunny disposition _ ,” you offer her a sarcastic smile. “He read me like a book. He said he didn’t need to use magic to get me to kill myself like he did the others. He knew it’s only a matter of time before I do it all on my own. Hearing someone else acknowledge the darkest thoughts I keep locked away from even myself, just sent me spiraling. I couldn’t fight it off anymore.”

“If you’re so hell bent on keeping this part of your life a secret, why are you telling me?” 

You brush the two day old tangles out of your hair. “I don’t know. Probably because I can tell you these things about myself and I know you won’t care enough to rat me out to Sam and Dean.” Rowena goes to interject but you cut her off. “I also know that if I ask you to keep your mouth shut, you will. Provided, I owe you a favour that you can collect anytime in the future.” 

“I still don’t get why you bother,” Rowena says in a silent acceptance of your terms. “The Winchesters are no stranger to dark places.”

“You saw what they did when I wasn’t my happy-go-lucky self for more than ten minutes. They called you to come in from god knows where and are treating me like I need to be fixed. They don’t need more darkness in their lives. They need a constant. I will be their constant. I know I’m not good for much in this world but I can be here for them.” You flatten out your clothing and stand up straight. “My pain doesn’t matter. It never has. Taking care of them or taking care of me? It’s a no brainer.”

You go to walk toward the door but Rowena stops you. “So, what? You’re just going to walk out of here and pretend you were under some spell? Pretend you aren’t full of broken pieces?”

You look at the witch over your shoulder. You close your eyes and take deep breath. When you open your eyes, you are smiling widely and the tension in your shoulders is loosened. Rowena is unnerved at how well you have perfected your disguise. “This ain’t my first rodeo,” you say as you shrug your shoulders at her. The boys deserve more from you than the broken pieces you are. You turn back toward the door and take another breath before opening it. “The show must go on,” you sing to yourself. 

When you open the door, and see Sam and Dean waiting anxiously by the car. You offer them your customized smile. “You miss me?” you ask the brothers as throw them a wink. The look of relief on their faces makes your effort worth it. You may always have this dull pain gnawing away at you inside. You may always have this deep-seated emptiness that drowns out any real light from flickering within you. But, it is a cross you will bear for your boys. It is a sacrifice you will make willingly to be their sunshine. They need it, they deserve it. 

  
  
  



End file.
